Another round of Friday Fic… late. Hosted by Rochelle of Addicted to Purple, who is recuperating (get well, Rochelle!), the goal is to write a three-part short story — no more than a hundred words — for a picture prompt by week’s end.
…And, as typical, I wasn’t satisfied with my work. Putting this up Sunday…fewer eyes on it. Enjoy.
I dreamt of fog… a full moon lighting the darkness… an impossible darkness… I felt vindictive… I felt guilty.
The next thing I know, my brother was on the floor. I must have blacked out.
“Sam?” I said. “Sam.” He just looked at me.
No one could figure it out. Sam hadn’t a scratch on him, but he’d gone mute. He shrugged when I asked why he was on the floor.
What happened next, Mom and Dad couldn’t possibly shield us. Allison Parson— “mean-girl Allison”— had died in a fire.
Fire? Then it hit me. A chill spread throughout my body…
This is a continuation from last week’s story.
Click here to see what others have written, or add your own… before Tuesday.